Earl Grey and Lemon
by Elipsa
Summary: Sometimes people need a punch in the face. What's wrong with that?


Stoney silence brewed between the two as they walked through the halls.

A professor with a cool air of indifference surrounding her, face blank and back as straight as could be without snapping in half. Her dark hair yanked to the base of her neck and pulled into a bun, a pair of spectacles lying low on her nose. Children scurried out of her way, pressing against walls and whispering in loud voices about the girl beside the professor.

"Why does the professor look mad with _her_?"

"Did she actually do something or is it about school you think?"

"She's a goody goody, obviously she didn't do anything."

The girl tried to keep a smirk off her features, but she failed - at least a little bit. Her bright, vivid red hair swirled around her shoulders freely as she walked after Professor McGonagall, head held high and reddened knuckles showing proudly on her fingers. Her robes hung open, revealing a long, grey pleated dress with a Gryffindor colored tie hanging loose around her neck.

Finally they reached the third floor and paused before a large, imposing gargoyle. The professor spoke in a clear, sharp voice, "Strawberry Licorice," and the gargoyle stepped aside to reveal a spiral, moving staircase. The professor stepped onto it without a backward pause, as if knowing the girl would follow and not make a run for it.

The red haired girl cocked her head, studying the staircase before moving forward and allowing it to take her up and up and up. Eventually the stairs paused and they stood in front of a wooden door. McGonagall looked over her shoulder and asked, "You realize why we have come here?"

"Yes, Professor."

And then they were entering the room and she couldn't stop herself from looking around the ever changing room. Gadgets whizzed and whirled, dove and ducked. Books floated around. Portraits snoozing or raptly paying attention, or perhaps both - those sneaky, sneaky paintings. Coming down from the second landing, Dumbledore meandered to his desk, "Good evening Minervra. Thank you for bringing Miss Evans, I will handle everything from here."

McGonagall sniffed before nodding, "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."

Once she had left, the old man sighed and sat behind his desk. "Please, Miss Evans, have a seat. Lemon drop?" He waved his hand and the bowl of sweets began to levitat, but lowered when Lily shook her head and primly sat, smoothing her dress down and crossing her legs. He called out, "Tipsy, a few drinks would be lovely."

A small house elf appeared in a tea cozy that held colors from all the houses: green, blue, red and yellow. Lily had to bite her tongue to keep her opinion to herself, but then large green eyes turned to her and asked, "Missus bes wanting drinks?"

Her eyes flickered up to the Headmaster, who simply smiled and nodded. With a casual shrug she leaned forward a little bit, resting her elbows on her knees to get a little closer to the creature. Her hair shifted and fell around her, even as she caught the scent of warmth and baking goods that wafted from Tipsy.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd love a spot of tea."

"With lemon in Earl Grey?" Tipsy grinned, bouncing on her toes. "I bes learning whats everyone bes liking. My first year. Yous always has tea at nights like this."

"That sounds lovely. Thank you, Tipsy."

The creature squeaked and popped away, not once asking what the Headmaster wanted. The two sat in the quiet, though the moment didn't sound strained so Lily didn't bother to fill it with remorse or lies. Instead, she leaned back and tucked strands of hair behind her ear.

Tipsy quickly returned with a plate laden with a steaming kettle and two tea cups along with a plate of biscuits. She placed it on the Headmaster's desk before leaving once more.

Dumbledore levitated a cup to her, already steaming, and filled with the hint of lemon and the strong odor of well brewed tea. Lily cupped her hands around the warm cup, eyes fluttering closed as her fingers curled and brought the drink to her nose. A sigh of happiness slipped past her lips as she kept it there for another moment before taking a contented sip.

Again, neither spoke, but the sound of sipping and spoons clattering against the cups filled the air around them. She opened her eyes and studied the man before her.

Vivid purple robes hung off a lean frame; white beard held beads and bells in the strands; keen blue eyes watched her with a hint of amusement in their depths.

With their drinks finished, he brought their cups onto his desk before clasping his hands together, "I heard that you had quite an eventful night. I would like to hear of it, if you'd be so kind."

Lily smiled, "Oh, nothing interesting happened this evening that hasn't happened before, Professor. I simply sat studying in the library and Potter and his posse came in to bother me. Nothing I couldn't handle, of course."

The man's eyes twinkled, and his beard twitched as if he smiled underneath all the hair. "Of course. They should know better than to corner a lioness."

Lily sniffed, shifting to cross her legs the opposite way as Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "To right. Boys never seem to learn."

Here Dumbledore didn't bother to hide his smile. "Of course not. Now, what happened next?"

Lily fought back a grin, but she imagined she might have failed quite terribly. "Well, I may have punched him. Potter, I mean. It's a blur, sir, so perhaps I simply imagined doing so." She sighed dramatically, leaning back. The sting in her hand did verify that she really had, along with the beginning of a black eye on James. She could only hope that he didn't go to the Hospital Wing, she would love to have people see her handiwork.

The professor chortled, "And your hand? How is it faring?"

"I'm sure it's just fine. Imagined or otherwise, the thought of the act is strangely appealing as he has been asking for more than a light punch to the face the past few years."

The man stood, "I can't imagine Mr. Potter will mind." The man looked out a window, mouth tilting into a light frown and eyes growing distant. "Perhaps keeping such activities to yourself and not in the open will save Minevra her health." He glanced back over to her, shaking himself from whatever melancholy had - for a moment - hold of him. "I would not like the forerunner of the Head Girl's position for next year to lose that for whatever courting ritual you young ones go through nowadays." He smiled at her sputtering, "Have a nice evening, Miss Evans."

"Thank you, Professor." She got a hold of herself remarkably fast, though her face now matched the shade of her hair. "You as well."

"Off you trot."

* * *

A/N Would you look at that. I wrote - without Mommy being a part of it - a nice/good/non manipulative Dumeldore! Woah!

Also, AJ Freas usually edits all my things for me, but this time you only get this edited by me, so I apologise if I miss anything, which is more than likely.

Update: Yup, I missed quite a bit. Apparently he levitated a bowel instead of a bowl *facepalm*


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